My New Blog

Well, the winter is finally over and with it so is the pike fishing. We weren't lucky enough to connect with any really big fish this year, but the snow did make for some nice photos.

I have started a new blog called Oli's Angle which I hope you will enjoy. This blog will include all of the fishing that I do, plus anything that I feel the need to moan about!

Thank you for all your support with Pro Pike Fishing UK and I hope you will follow me on my new blog.

Tight lines

Oli

A Grand Day Out

Reconnaissance was the main priority today. With the river taking a well earned rest in a few weeks, it was time for Mick and I to start thinking about where to fish during the interlude.

Canals have been producing predators of quite a reasonable standard recently, probably due to the fact that pike anglers seldom bother with such waters. However, fish as we all know, thrive on neglect and canals it would seem, can offer some very good sport away from the madding crowd.

Our club has 3.2 miles of the Grand Union Canal in its portfolio and, if I'm honest, is a stretch of water that I have never even considered fishing before. I've always, perhaps unfairly, thought of canals as muddy streams full of unhealthy fish. That coupled with joggers and bank sides peppered with empty stella cans, has always put me off. A bit.

So, I wasn't expecting a lot when we arrived at the Grand Union Canal, but I'm glad to say that I was pleasantly surprised. The first thing that struck me was the serenity of the place. Almost as if time had stood still. A blissful silence that we seldom get to experience on this crowded island of ours. The trees that lined the water were full of birds, the fields on either side were as wild as could be. Yes there were moored boats, but the occupants were friendly enough (even if their dogs weren't!) and the boats actually give you a feature to cast to. Dare I say it, the canal was quite splendid.

Right then, fishing! Due to the fact that we had a fair amount of water to 'look at', we opted for just the spinning tackle today. Now, as you may of gathered, I am not exactly an ambassador for lure fishing. It is probably because I have never really given it a real go, but I've always viewed it in much the same way that I did canals. Before today, that is, as not only do I now love canal fishing, but lure fishing too!

Mick was taking his lure fishing very seriously and was working his way through his, small but adequate, collection of lures like a pro. Starting with a spinner, to pick up anything willing to hang its self, and then changing to other patterns periodically. Casting to a different spot in a fan-like pattern each time, anybody would think that he had been doing this for years.

I, on the other hand, had my tongue in my cheek at the start of this exercise. I plumped for the most outrageous shad that I had in my my tackle box. This wasn't entirely for comic effect, not entirely, no. Canal water is similar in colour to muddy carp pools. Visibility was going to be low so bright and vibrant patterns were what the text book suggested we should use. Shame the text book went in the drink back at the start of the season.

Anyway, I only went and caught one! We didn't really expect to catch today, it was a little warmer than its been recently but we were still on unfamiliar water without any bait! Working the shad slow and deep, I had the take after about 25 mins of fishing at only the second swim I'd tried. I couldn't believe that I'd actually had a take. Even when my lure decided to move rapidly to the right, come to the surface and frantically shake its head in the form of a perfectly conditioned pike, I still couldn't quite believe it.

There was no doubt about it. This fish had never never been caught before and I've never had a pike put up such a dogged fight. Fantastic.

That fish was very important for Mick and I. It proved that there are fish here waiting to be caught and that we are not completely wasting our time fishing with bits of metal and plastic - instead of bait.

I'm actually looking forward to the close season now.

Happy Birthday Mick

'Spring is defiantly in the air' I foolishly suggested in my last post. What I meant to say is that winter is here to stay. Forever. Well, that's how it felt at 6am this morning as I struggled along an untreated road on the way to pick up my wing-man. Funny, if I'd looked out of the window and seen snow like that a few months ago I'd have been on the phone to Mick to cancel our trip straight away. Tenacity, it would seem, is one of our better human qualities.

Arriving at our destination nice and early was quite a nice feeling, even if the blizzard falling on our heads wasn't. We established camp at one of our favorite spots and set about offering the pike our deadbaits. Little did they know, but we had booby trapped them with size 6 trebles! How cunning.

The river was in fair condition considering the weather. It was a little coloured but the level wasn't too bad. All in all, and considering the time of day, we felt confident of some action. Now is the time of year that the pike start to put on weight, ready for spawning, so a fish that was 17lb 8oz a few weeks ago might be... bigger now.

The snow lasted all morning and it was quite cold to go with it. The river was obviously asleep as hardly anything stirred. Despite this, Mick did have a couple of runs that unfortunatly came to nothing. Small jacks again me thinks.

The weather cheered up by lunch time and, almost as soon as the sun began to break through the ever-present clouds, Micks float began to indicate some real interest. This time the float bobbed properly and moved off steadily to the right. This fish meant business.

Micks strike instantly forced his 2.5lb test curve rod into a healthy bend. The fish held on and stayed deep. For a moment we wondered what could be, niether of us having the nerve to suggest what we hoped might be on the end. The fish finally came to the surface. Clearly not a high double, but a double all the same!

I did the honours with the net and soon Micks personal best of exactly 10lb was posing for the camera.

A cup of tea was in order to celebrate Mick's triumph. It was one of those moments for me where it didn't matter which one of us had caught the fish. I was as happy for Mick with his PB as I would have been with my own. This is what fishing is all about - moments like these.

Spring had finally won its battle with the snow as the weather changed dramatically from snowy and cold to... well, er, not so cold and sunny. The contrast between the weather in the morning and the afternoon could not be more stark.

With this warmer weather came the spinning rods. But after thrashing the water to a foam for an hour or so, we gave in to the fact that it was probably too cold for the fish to be chasing bits of metal about. It kept Mick quiet for a bit though (hehe!) We bought the spinning outfits a while ago now and we've been itching for a chance to take the celophane off of them!

A well earned pint on the way home was a fitting end to the day. Happy Birthday Mick and well done with that PB.

Perfect Conditions

The only problem that I seem to encounter when fishing in 'perfect' conditions is that I don't really have an excuse for not catching! A bit like the matchman who has drawn a bum peg, he's not expected to catch so the pressure's off. When you faced with a high river, coloured water and rubbish weather, you know that you've got to fish hard in order to catch. This keeps you on your toes and makes any catch a result to be proud of.

When you are greeted with a river that's fining down, with a slight green tinge and overcast skies however, you know that the only reason you won't catch today is if you fish like a complete wally. As you can probably tell from this string of excuses - I didn't do very well on this trip.

Mick, on the other hand, did do ok on this trip. He wasted no time at all in putting the first fish on the bank. A very lively 7lb fish taken on a sprat on size 8 trebles.

Tom had joined us on this trip and after trying his luck on the other side of the bridge for an hour or so, he decided to fish to the left of where we were. The swim had gone quiet so the three of us had engaged in a little idle banter. As we did this my float began to move, i lifted into a fish only for it to come off after a few seconds. We got a good look at it, just a small jack. That doesn't mean i wasn't as sick as a dog. I recast to the same spot and almost instantly got straight into a fish again - only for it to fall off again!

Now i'm climbing the walls, metaphorically of course, much to Mick and Tom's amusement. I bet you can't guess what happened next - Yep, Tom went and caught a pike that looked suspiciously like the one that had been teasing me. It turned out to be the 6lb8oz fish that Mick and myself have encountered 4 times now. If this fish is caught anymore i fear it may become the Nene's first vegetarian pike.

We all continued to have aborted runs and nudges on our floats as the water bubbled like a cauldron. The river, very noticeably today, has started to come to life as the temperatures start to creep up. Spring is definitely in the air now.

It was time for Tom to go and after he had, Mick and I both commented on how professionally he had chinned his fish out of the water and unhooked it. His handling of the fish was very confident and the fish was back in the water in no time at all.

Soon it was time for us to leave to, but not before i had hooked another fish just for it to fall off again. That made it a hat-trick for me. Its times like this you have to draw on other captures and hold the memory of them firmly in your mind. Either that or snap your rod over your knee and take up golf.

"You're the fella from that blog, aren't you?"

Wow, I didn't think anybody actually read this thing! It was nice to be recognised though. It's been a couple of weeks since i was able to go fishing, and this trip was a little opportunistic. Mick had promised his dad that they would go and watch the football today, so i grabbed my kit and thought "why not?"

I hadn't intended on doing anything for the blog today, instead quite the opposite. I intended on doing what fishing is supposed to be about - relaxing! Hah - have you ever had a relaxing fishing trip in your life? I know i haven't! But relaxing, none the less, was what today was supposed to be about. Besides, who would take the pictures anyway?

Well the chap who did end up taking my picture, with a 9lb fish, was a smashing gentleman called Tom. It genuinely was a pleasure to meet him, a proper fisherman, humble but full of knowledge and passion for the sport.

We got stuck in to every angling issue that has ever, or might ever, effect our beloved sport. Swapped story's of personal bests and funny anecdotes of situations we've found ourselves in. Put right every wrong within the sport and even found time to catch a fish or two!

It's meeting like this, with like minded fishermen, that make you realise just how good we are at our sport...no seriously! As Tom and I were stood talking, each of us was watching each others float so that we could be facing each other without missing any bites. Neither of us suggested we should do this, we just automatically did it. When it was time to reel in a fish, Tom was there with the net to land the fish and offered assistance when the fish was on the mat. All of this whilst being courteous enough to leave me to my fish, but close enough in case i should need this assistance. You can't really teach that sort of etiquette, it just develops naturally as you progress through your angling career.

Soon my time on the bank was up, back to the real world for me. It was as i was packing up that Tom got around to telling me his name. Then it occurred to me - how often does that happen? You'll know their personal best, where they fished as a child, their favorite bait and even what used to be on this land before they dug these quarries for the gravel to build the M1 motorway - but do you ever get their name? We're a funny lot us fishermen!

Wish you were there Mick!

Frustration

We all have this sort of trip from time to time. You know -  where everything seems to go wrong! Well, that's how you tell the story to others, that 'everything went wrong'. Truth is, you got to fishing but you just didn't do as well as you'd liked. Unless you fell in or something, that is!

After a set back with my childcare arrangements we arrived at the lakes a couple of hours later than planned. We'd missed the 'golden hour' that is nearly always productive for us. That set the mood for the day really.

The rain was falling quite steadily. Not the heavy 'chucking-it-down' stuff, but the sort of constant drizzle that gets you just as wet, only on the sly. Not that we were unhappy that it was raining, quite the opposite. The thaw had finally kicked in and with this precipitation also came milder temperatures.

At first glance the lakes looked to be clear of ice. Our soggy mood lifted momentarily as we dragged our kit to the bank side. It wasn't a mobile approach today. It was all guns blazing, from situ. The plan was to fish float ledgered baits on one rod each, and leave them be, whilst having a cast around with our standard float fished deadbaits. We could cover enough water from one peg with this approach, so all the home comforts came with us today.

However, all of that went out the window when we got to the lakeside. The layer of rain on top of the ice had given the illusion of an ice free lake, but it was far from thawed out. Quite a sight actually, you could see the reflection of the sky on the ice - which was submerged under a centimeter or so of rain. Incredible.

So, plan B. I know we said that we would fish some where else today but, once again, the elements were in the driving seat. To be honest, the lock-cut did not look that promising either. You could fish it, because it wasn't covered in ice like the lakes, but it was running deep and coloured. We knew that it would be, with the thaw, and we hadn't banked on fishing it today.

With all this messing about we were soaked by now. We had on the right kit but we'd been out in rain for so long now that my coat had given up repeling water and was now soaking it up like a chamois. We didn't feel confident, but we set up by the bridge anyway. Just to get a brolly up! The weather tested Micks commitment to his new hobby to the full. Being out in the snow was fun, it genuinely was, but being wet and cold is no fun. Mick, i'm glad to say, passed his test with flying colours as he struggled on regardless.

We spread our 4 deadbaits out over the area evenly. If anything was down there it wouldn't be able to miss us. Bit of a blunderbuss approach i'll grant you. We'd normally only have one rod each here and expect action. Even though we had double that amount today, it didn't feel right.

The despondency had begun to creep in as i sat hunched under my umbrella, cursing everything from the weather to the hole in my canopy. Mick did his best to keep my chin up by lassoing the bridge a couple of times with his trebles, but it was fish we needed now to lift the spirits.

The rain eased off after a couple of hours so we moved swim to try the other side of the bridge. It felt a bit more like it now, but still there was no action. We fished as hard as we could. Changed baits, moved swims, altered depths, recited ritualistic chants - but all to no avail.

It was getting on now and the 'witching hour' was upon us. Our rigs were collecting all of the floating debris drifting down the river quite nicely. It wasn't happening. Time to go. Suddenly, something  happened. My float bobbed! Had we imagined it. It did it again. I frantically grabbed my rod and prepared to strike. The run was less than convincing. I never like to wait too long before lifting into a fish, but this one didn't seem to be doing much. Never the less, i tightened down and swept the rod towards my right shoulder. A small pike came straight to the surface and thrashed its tail in disgruntlement. The line was tight for a few seconds, before going slack as the only fish of the day returned to the murky depths of the Nene.

We probed around until it was dark and returned to the car by headtourch. It had been a tough day in tough conditions.

Next time we ARE fishing one of the lakes!

Mad Men?

"You're mad you are!" exclaimed the lady walking her dog - in the blizzard.
"We Know!" I polity shouted back.
It always brings a smile to my face when other people, who are out in the same conditions as me, comment on the my level of sanity. After all, we're out in this weather with a purpose. We're prepared. We have warm clothes, hot flasks and emergency equipment in the car. We are on the bank as part of a well laid plan to catch fish - without compromising our safety. Dogs walkers, on the other hand, have chosen to go out in this weather to... exercise the dog! Often equipped with nothing more than hunched shoulders and a walking stick, they drag their poor animals out into the freezing conditions - for the dog's benefit! Whose mad?

Well, maybe we're all a little eccentric at the moment. The snow does seem to bring out the quirky side in people. I can only speak for myself, but i feel compelled to go out in conditions like this, as if it proves your commitment to your sport. As if, maybe, the fishing gods are watching and taking notes. These notes, of course, are what the gods refer to when dishing out your angling fortunes over the coming season. Actually the lady walking her dog was right!

Our mid-week outings are only short and sweet as both of us have family commitments. None the less, these short trips can prove very successful if you've done your home work. On trips like these, it pays to go somewhere where you know you have a good chance of action. So, no prizes for guessing where we headed! Not that we had much choice otherwise, this sort of weather pretty much dictates where you can fish. We had hoped we'd be able to fish one of the lakes on the Ringstead complex, but the ice on these was about 3 inches thick in places. As soon as they thaw, we're on them!

The robins greeted us with the usual acrobatic display, and the pike were obliging as usual. Mick played one all the way to the net before everything went slack (what a horrible feeling that is!) and the air temperature momentarily raised as steam blew out of the sides of Micks face. Not happy. To try and make him feel better I set about catching the fish for him just 5 minutes later. Well, anything for a mate.

Just a jack of about 7lb. This piece of water is really starting to become something special. Although the size of the fish isn't huge, with the exception of Kris's fish, we catch every time we come. I don't think I've ever fished any other natural venue that i can say that about. This creates a conflict in your mind. Pastures new? Or where you know you'll catch? I can hear you all shouting "Pastures new, please!" so for the sake of this blog - we will.

As i said before, we propose to fish one of the lakes at the weekend. There are some big fish in the lakes so be sure to read how we get on.

Don't forget that you can subscribe to this blog by using the link in the side bar on the left. The forum and chat facilities are now up and running also so please join in. Remember, Mick and I are just normal 'real' fishermen and would love to hear advice and stories from other like minded anglers.

I look forward to speaking to you soon.